


The China Shepherdess

by Altopiano



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:24:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altopiano/pseuds/Altopiano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I know your tastes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The China Shepherdess

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted anonymously on Livejournal.

1

Theirs was a young men's club, for the most part, with none of the old fossils slumbering beneath the _Times_  or reliving the Crimean War that infested so many other establishments. Silver hair was unknown at the Baccalario, grey scarcely less so; and those members who did find themselves approaching middle-age tended to keep to the library and other less fequented parts of the club. So when a distinguished and soldierly looking gentleman entered the noisy smoking room that evening, Bunny noticed him immediately.

Raffles still being out of town (heaven knew where!), Bunny had dined that night with his friend Davidson, with whom he was now enjoying a brandy and soda.

"Haven't seen that old relic here before," he remarked, nodding towards the newcomer, who was lighting his pipe on the other side of the room. "Looks a bit out of place, if you ask me."

"Oh, that's Major Framlingham," said Davidson. "Bosco's uncle, you know. Bit of a―well..." Davidson tapped the side of his nose mystifyingly. "So they say," he added in an undertone.

Bunny was about to ask for clarification, but at that moment his chair was rolled suddenly backwards, and he spilt brandy down his shirtfront. The centre of the floor was being cleared for a game of leapfrog, an activity in which he had made a fool of himself all too often; so instead of joining in he went and found a waiter to help him clean himself up. When he came back, the game was in full swing, and he joined the spectators standing round the edge of the room. To his surprise, he saw that Major Framlingham was in the thick of it, and displaying a surprising degree of athletic prowess for a man who must have been at least forty five years old. In his shirtsleeves, and with his grizzled hair unkempt, he somehow reminded Bunny of Raffles playing cricket―an older Raffles, to be sure, but one no less magnetically alluring...

***

2

It was perhaps a month later that Bunny happened to run into Raffles in Piccadilly. They had not seen each other for weeks, and indeed Bunny had had no idea that Raffles had returned to town. Bunny was standing outside a certain tobacconist's they both favoured, when Raffles turned the corner and they came face to face.

"Why—A. J.!" cried Bunny. "So you're back!"

"As you see, Bunny," agreed Raffles. "And I've much to tell you. Come and lunch with me."

He slipped his arm into Bunny's as though there could be no question. But Bunny stepped back, awkwardly.

"Oh, well—you see... Of course, I'd love to, but... The fact is, I'm already engaged—"

At that moment, Major Framlingham appeared in the shop doorway.

"So sorry to have kept you waiting, Harry," he said. "The fellow hadn't quite the blend I prefer, so I've had to leave my order... Oh, I beg your pardon, sir." He noticed Raffles and bowed.

Raffles nodded politely and turned his blue eyes wide upon Bunny as he stammered through the introductions.

"A. J. Raffles!" cried the Major admiringly. "Why, I've watched you bowl many and many a time—artistry, sir, pure artistry! And Harry here never told me he was acquainted with a first class cricketer. A privilege to shake your hand, sir."

"Too kind, Major," murmured Raffles. "But I mustn't detain you from your luncheon engagement."

"Won't you join us?" asked the Major.

Raffles shook his head. "I fear that is impossible." He stood aside, and as they passed he spoke for Bunny's ear alone. "A pleasure to see you again— _Harry_."

***

3

Bunny was letting himself into his flat one afternoon some days later when Raffles appeared at his elbow.

"Mayn't I come in?" asked Raffles, when Bunny merely stared at him in surprise. "I need you tonight, Bunny," he continued without preamble as they entered the small living room.

"What for?"

"For a _job_ , my boy. As pretty a little job as you could ask for. It's been too long, wouldn't you say?"

Bunny didn't protest that he had other plans—that he was to dine with Major Framlingham, then take in a show, and perhaps supper afterwards. That to accompany Raffles on this _job_  would be an inconvenience, and he would prefer to decline. That, thanks to the generosity of his new friend, he no longer had any need to replenish his bank balance with the spoils of crime. None of this did he say as he watched Raffles's eyes travel round the room, taking in the new highly patterned curtains, the new silk cushions, the new and rather _outré_  figure in oils occupying the place where once a rustic landscape had hung. Raffles reached over and plucked a Bow shepherdess from the mantlepiece; Bunny cared nothing for china, as Raffles well knew, but Edward was quite the connoisseur...

"I'll do it," he said defiantly before Raffles could speak. "I'm your man."

Raffles's jaw tightened as he replaced the ornament carefully. "You're the very devil of a fellow to track down," he said, turning to Bunny with a countenance strangely bright. "A perfect stranger at the club these days, they tell me. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

Bunny coloured, thinking of the quiet and _very private_  club to which Edward—Major Framlingham—had introduced him; a place where the members seemed exclusively men of the Major's time of life, and their younger companions; a place where, on their third visit, Edward had taken him to one of the discreetly situated upstairs rooms, and... He realised he was standing with his mouth open, and forced a smile.

"Oh—here and there, you know. I... I've been seeing quite a bit of Major Framlingham, actually."

"Really." Raffles's eye turned flinty. "Two o'clock tonight, then," he said abruptly, naming a very grand address not many streets away. "That is, if Major Framlingham can spare you."

***

4

As jobs went, it was not their finest, but they were back at the Albany before dawn with a modest haul of stones for their trouble. Bunny, with a reviving whisky inside him and a ruby in his pocket, would have felt exhilarated, save that Raffles was being decidedly surly. This was not like the old days, Bunny thought with a sigh—a sigh that continued into a jaw-cracking yawn as the fatigues of their night's work overcame him all at once. He did not feel up to trying to make conversation with the silent figure seated opposite him, so he began to rise, casting about for the right words to bid farewell as he did so.

"Leaving so soon, Bunny?" said Raffles, with a sharp glance. "So impatient to be gone?"

Bunny sat down again. "I'll stay, if you wish it," he said.

"I? Why should it matter to me whether you stay or go?"

Bunny began to feel annoyed. "Very well, then. Since you seem determined to be cross, whatever I do, I think I shall leave." He went to retrieve his hat and coat, and returned to find Raffles uncharacteristically nursing a second whisky. "We could dine tomorrow, perhaps?" he suggested, hoping to clear the air before he left.

Raffles sipped his drink. "Will the Major not be requiring your company, then?" he said at last.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's clear you are bought and paid for. I would not—"

"Raffles!" Bunny stepped forward, his fists clenching. "What an infernal thing to say!"

Raffles sprang up and turned on him fiercely. "Bunny, Bunny! All of London knows what this man is. Must I sit by and see you ruined?"

"How dare you—"

"The china shepherdess, Bunny." Raffles shook his head.

"It was a gift."

"Of course it was. I know your tastes."

"Do you?" retorted Bunny. The recollection of the upstairs room flashed into his mind, and he almost laughed. _Tastes_ , indeed! "Are you quite sure about that, Raffles?"

Raffles's face took on the wounded look Bunny recognised from certain occasions when his blundering had proved particularly costly; and it came to him that Raffles's concern might not be wholly for his reputation. It was as though Bunny had struck him a blow—had trespassed upon feelings too deep for disguise.

"You're jealous!" Bunny blurted out. "Good God—you _are!_ "

***

5

Sure of his ground now, Bunny was deaf to Raffles's denial of such a preposterous accusation. With a heart considerably lightened, he made his way home to Mount Street through the early morn. After a refreshing sleep, he took a cab across the Park to Major Framlingham's house and in a brief interview informed him that their liaison must end. The Major was rueful, but hardly desolated, and demurred only when Bunny spoke of returning his gifts.

"Sell 'em," he said. "Distribute them to the poor. There was no obligation on you, Harry—you do understand that, don't you?"

"I do," replied Bunny, "and I wish to thank you, Edward, for—for _all_  that you have given me."

By the following week, the flat wore something of its former aspect again. Only the figure in oils remained to proclaim the journey of discovery that Bunny had made; that, and the china shepherdess which Bunny slipped into his pocket as he left the flat one evening.

He had not seen Raffles since the night of the burglary, and was not sure what his reception would be, nor even if he would find him home. But the door opened to his ring, and Raffles seemed quite his old self as he ushered Bunny inside.

"Help yourself to a drink, old chap," he said, as he went to change his jacket.

But Bunny ignored this hospitable offer, and followed him into the bedroom instead. As Raffles turned in surprise, Bunny drew the shepherdess from his pocket and placed her on the mantlepiece, opposite the bed.

"You see—I know your tastes," he said quietly; to which Raffles made no reply.

Bunny began to remove coat, jacket, shoes—not without a degree of self-consciousness under Raffles's searching gaze. "Edward—and I—it's all over," he said, simply because one had to say _something_.

Raffles nodded. Bunny, half undressed, put a hand to his face, and finding no resistance, kissed him, gently, softly, and then some more, until for want of air they broke apart.

"I'm glad," breathed Raffles, his hands audaciously tight in Bunny's hair, " _glad!_ "

They fell upon the bed and spoke no more, and from the mantlepiece the shepherdess watched for her wandering flock to come home.


End file.
